


Empire Verse

by ambersagen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heaven's Civil War, M/M, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Roman AU, Roman Civil War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/pseuds/ambersagen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When evil dictator Azazel has crossed one line too many, young general Dean Winchester is called by the Gods to free Rome from her chains. But will supernatural intervention in the form of angels, so called messengers from the gods, end up saving Rome? Or will divine war help bring the empire to her knees?</p><p>Or, Dean is Julius Caesar and Rome is in dire need of a good ruler!</p><p>Off Hiatus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Empire Verse Chapter 1. "Hoc erit legatum meum?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of my Roman Empire AU. It is loosely (very loosely due to time jumps and certain character shifts) based on the life of Julius Caesar and the era of the Roman Civil war. Each spn character has been matched with a real historical figure, which I have found really fun since so many of their relationships work with spn anyway!
> 
> I wanted to write a destiel AU that I could use my knowledge of classical history for, since that is my major and I am about to start work on a Roman Civil war era thesis. This will be my project for at least through December, I hope. At the end of each chapter I will include source notes and commentary on details found in the AU that you guys might find interesting!

 

**  
**

The sound of hoof beats echoed across the Via Appia as a group of riders approached the camp, moving in rapidly from the city. Dean listened as the guards blew the all clear signal for friendlies. He snorted softly. They were all Romans here, that was the whole stinking problem with this situation.

He scowled at the city, her walls lit by the evening sun. Civil war was approaching faster than anyone could hope to stop, and just his luck, he would be the one who was 'chosen' to lead the charge.

As the riders came into view Dean felt something in his gut un-clench, able to recognize his brother even at this distance. It was often that soldiers of whatever camp happened to be their current home remarked on the awkward seat the younger Winchester had in the saddle and many would joke that he was taller than any Gaul. Soldiers would also make comments on whether every part of him was so large, much to Sam’s embarrassment.

An alarm from the guards had Dean wheeling Impala around only to rein her in as the alert was quickly retracted by another horn blow. Worried, Dean settled Impala with a reassuring pat to her strong, black neck. Not that she needed it. His baby was the envy of every horseman throughout the legions of Rome. She had just the right mix of bloodlust and calm horse sense to make her the most unflappable of mounts.

Dean watched as Sam rode into view, his clothes flapping at the speed of his horse’s gate as he broke off from his escort. Dean tensed again, hand fisting nervously in course horse hair as he now saw the red staining his brother’s toga, right down to the purple pretexta at the hem, the clear streaks of blood no doubt the reason for the guards alarm.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice echoed slightly off the hill of the camp wall as his concern for his brother broke through the shell of brooding that he had felt mired in the last few days.

Sam’s business in Rome had not been for pleasure. His presence here in camp now after days of negotiations was by no means a good sign. On the contrary, it was highly likely that something had gone wrong, that Crowley had backed out of their deal, that the people had turned against them, that Azazel had finally managed to gather sufficient forces against them.

Sam raised a hand in acknowledgment shaking his head at the man who moved to take his horse and moving instead to guide his mount up the dry slope to Dean’s tent.

“What happened?” Dean said, the sharp edge of his question causing Sam to look down at his clothes, bemused.

“Not mine,” he answered, plucking at the wet folds. His face melted down into distaste as he noticed the mess now covering his hand. “Some fools thought they could expedite our dismissal from the city by knifing us in the backs on our way out,” sighing, he wiped his hand on a corner of his robes. “Obviously they were unsuccessful in their attempt at preemptively starting this war. The senate has offered us three days to negotiate a settlement we can all live with and they had already agreed to this armistice before we attempted to leave the city, so what these idiots thought they would accomplish by killing the messengers I can only guess.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Trust Sam to fret more over the politics of the situation and not the oh-no-I-almost-died part of his evening. As his elder brother, Dean briefly considered smacking some common sense into him because -seriously- he was more trouble than he was worth sometimes. But there was something in just seeing Sam, knowing he was here and safe in the camp now, not off in danger where Dean couldn’t reach him, which eased something in Dean’s psyche. So he decided not give a physical demonstration of his annoyance, this time.

Dean inhaled deeply, the humid evening air filling his lungs like muggy honey as, his mind relieved from worry about his brother, it now returned to the problem at hand.

“Are we really going to do this?” he breathed out, tilting his head back to look up at the sky, as if to address the gods.

“Dean?” Sam watched him, his whole lanky body tense with anticipation as his awkward posture caused his bay to shift anxiously under him.

Dean huffed out another breath as he turned away from Sam’s questioning stare to gaze upon Rome. The city was settling into the evening for now, no fires lit burning in defiance of what he was preparing to do.

They didn’t think he would go through with it.

Nobody did.

 _“Hell, not even I expected myself to do it,”_ he thought, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth, his hands clenching on the reins in frustration. He knew what they all expected, but then here was Sammy, mounted at his side with that faith of his that Dean will be able to pick the right path.

And his gut screamed at him to strike, that Azazal needed to be put down like the rabid wolf that he was.

But there was always that doubt.

“What if I’m wrong Sammy?” he asked, the sound of his voice almost lost among the clatter and muffled sounds of camp life surrounding them. “Why do you all think I can do this?” he nodded jerkily at the camp full of soldiers going about their business, oblivious to the doubts now plaguing their general. _“This is so far above me,”_ he thought. _“We are all going to die because some voice told me to play at being Dad.”_

“We can still turn back now, but if I cross that bridge there’s no option but to fight this mess out.”

Sam shifted forward in his saddle, his expression shifting from concerned little brother to professional strategist. “You don’t have to do anything tonight Dean. Remember, they are willing to compromise, to talk,” he met Dean’s sarcastic snort with a shrug. “So they think this is just a ploy to get higher pay. So what? We can use that to our advantage, bring them to the bargaining table and slip in some of the reforms we want. It won’t be everything, but it will be a step forward. We do have the manpower to back us,” he finished, nodding towards the main camp meaningly.

“They love you Dean, I believe they would follow you even if we didn’t get them the bonus. Azazel has harmed more people than even he can be truly aware of.”

Dean knew Sam was right, that he had the manpower now to handle this stall in their plans. He also knew he might not have such unwavering support forever. It was time to do this.

_“Alright, Castiel you sonofabitch. I’m here, like you wanted, ready to start this war and get us all killed. So get your glowing ass down here and prove to me that I’m not crazy.”_

“Hello, Dean.”

The voice burned through him, strong as the first time he heard it rumbling through his mind.

A voice only he could ever hear.

“Cas,” Dean acknowledged, his voice betraying none of the emotions churning through him now, feelings of fear, anticipation, worry, and growing battle lust. He turned, facing the supernatural being who had set this all in motion.

The creature before him was both everything he had expected and yet completely different.

Before his horse stood a man, light shining around and from him, making him appear as if he were enormous. A faint buzzing that Dean could feel down through his teeth accompanied the creature’s presence. The eyes of the creature shone an ethereal blue out of that human face. Dark hair and pale skin made up the man, but nothing about Castiel could be mistaken for human.

“It is time Dean.” The supernatural _thing_ announced, his voice rumbling as if it were thunder rather than the voice of something man-sized and slightly shorter than the two brothers.

“March upon Rome. Free her from her chains.”

“Right,” Dean snorted, ignoring the scandalized look Sam shot him at his form of address to what Sam knew must be the messenger from the Gods Dean had been ranting about from the beginning of this whole mess. “Because that’s going to be so easy.”

Dean wheeled Impala around sharply, ignoring the specter, who was looking at him so curiously, and his brother, who cursed as Impala’s pristine hooves kicked up mud onto his already trashed toga. Dean drew his sword, feeling the attention of his massing army focus on him and his glowing friend.

“Soldiers! It’s time as we feared, to march on our beloved Rome. Let’s accept this sign from the Gods and follow where they point us! We will have our vengeance on this double dealing monster Azazel.”

Dean didn’t spare a glance for his brother and the strange, supernatural thing – _Castiel_ he called himself- that had lead them to this point. As his army roared its approval he turned to face the city, still unaware of the trouble that would befall her tonight.

“The die is cast. Let us to Rome!”


	2. Ante Bellum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life kicked me in the balls, but I'm back! Hoping to keep this fic updating a few times a month from now on. School is over so it shouldn't be too hard. Hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Also, I'm BSing a bit on the locations and some Roman details for now. Might fix that later but it wont really change the story at all, just the authenticity. I need to get back into the hang of research 
> 
> XD fuck my thesis.

In a back room of a small, nondescript villa just below the Palatine hill, the youngest and most recently elected senator in Rome paced back and forth, barely restraining his nervous energy as he spun on his heel, constantly casting glances towards the open door facing the inner courtyard.

As he again reached the opposite end of the room a figure dropped silently from the roof into the dimming light of the atrium.

“Fuck, Dean!” Sam said, rushing to his older brother. The elder drew back his hood just enough for them to make eye contact, reaching out to clasp Sam’s arm in greeting. “What the hell is going on? You’ve been back from Gaul for one week and suddenly it’s all over town that you’re banished as of yesterday! And now I hear that behind closed doors Azazel’s demanding your ass on a platter!”

Dean grimaced, rolling his eyes at his brother’s fussing. “I don’t know what you want me to say Sammy,” he growled. “Azazel is over reacting and, unfortunately, if the old demon wants to banish me for being a fine piece of ass there’s not really anything I can do to stop him.”

Sam pushed away from Dean, running his hands distractedly through his hair. “Take it back Dean! Stay away from Lisa and quit throwing money at her kid. I know you like her and all, but is it really that serious? I mean, it’s not like the boy is yours,” he looked at Dean, perplexed. “You’ve never really stuck around your other flings before.”

Dean found himself shrugging again. He felt that familiar piece of anxiety forming in his gut, the same one he always got when discussing his personal life as Alistair’s personal attack dog. Talking about feelings was dangerous, especially with Sam. He had so much to hide from the kid that any talk which delved into the reasons he did things inevitably dipped into dangerous territory.

“Is she really worth getting banished?” Sam’s gigantic body went almost limp with confusion. “This isn’t like your normal dicking around, this is dangerous,” he pointed out. “Azazel already has a million reasons to want you dead, so why give him anymore?” Sam paused, clearly uncomfortable. “And what about Alistair? He can’t be pleased about this.”

“Yeah, he was a little pissed,” Dean said, nonchalantly. He plucked self-consciously at his toga, pulling the hood a little tighter around his face, reassuring himself that the finger shaped bruises around his neck were safely tucked away where his baby brother would never spot them. Pissed was an understatement. Alistair had been furious to find that his favorite little slut had gotten himself exiled, and over some woman too. “The boss man will just have to deal though, because I am not disowning Ben. Even if I do have to leave Lisa.”

“So you are dumping her?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed. “Yeah. I put her at risk with this whole thing. Alistair is pissed about the banishment, but he’s got me covered. Doesn’t want to lose a perfectly good lackey. But Lisa’s kind of out there on her own with Azazel. So I’m leaving. Hopefully it will take some of the attention off her.”

The whole reason Azazel was pissed about the whole affair was because as his grandnephew, Ben was a pawn as much as his recently widowed, and thus now single, mother was. Having someone like Dean suddenly bequeathing the boy a small fortune, one that he had recently won in his very successful foray into Gaul under Alistair’s command, upset the balance of control. Azazel still had Lisa under his power, but he was greedy and a financially independent young male relative was not something he would ever wish for.

“I can’t talk you out of funding the boy, can I?”

“What, and leave him to Alistair’s tender mercy? Even I’m not that heartless,” Dean moved to enter the house, his brother following close behind. “No. Ben will remain my heir until the position becomes too dangerous for him. If there can be one good thing to come of my life let it be this. He will have a good place in the world and a way to care for his mother.”

Sam made a strange face. “Dean—”

“You know the shit they say about me.”

“I hear it, Dean. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to listen.”

Frustrated Dean turned, pushing Sam back a step carefully as he pulled down the coverings over the windows in the small room. “Not everything they say is a lie Sam. I just— I just wanted to give him something good, to do something right for a change.”

He didn’t mention that he was also pathetically glad for the chance to get away from Alistair for a while. He was always trying to get away, all the shit he constantly got up to with women and men alike was just a way to pretend that at the end of the day his hole wasn’t owned by that sadistic monster. He swallowed, unable to help the nausea that return at the memory of his ‘master’s’ farewell. Alistair had sent him off with a smack and a reprimand, and like the bitch that he was Dean had slunk off with his tail between his legs.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice cut through the darkness into his thoughts. “Hey man, you ok?”

Dean opened his eyes, unaware that he had scrunched them shut against the memories.

“I’m good. I should really get going though. What have you got for me?”

Sam frowned, not quite convinced he was good but unwilling to push it. “Well, Bobby is the obvious refuge. Possibly a little too obvious though.” He moved to the small table in the corner of the room, one of the few pieces of furniture in the space. Pulling a map out of the bag placed there he continued. “I figured you had best play it safe and stop by the Temple of Quirinus Mars on your way. Stay a few days before going on. It’s far enough from Rome.”

A loud thumping signaled the approach of someone descending the stairs. The brothers tensed, habit unconsciously pulling them back into the shadows as the new arrival burst into the room.

“Damn it Jo!” Dean grumped as Sam let out the breath he was holding with relief. “What are you doing here. It’s dangerous –I’m dangerous!”

“Don’t look at me like that,” replied Josephine Harvelle, only surviving child of the famous Consul, Anthony Harvelle, who subdued the Gaelic invaders ten years previous. She shoved a leather marching pack into Dean’s gut. “You’re lucky it’s me here and not mother. She’s about ready to murder you herself.”

“Hey now,” Dean said, clutching the bag and rubbing at his chest. “None of this is really my fault you know. I can’t help it if our lovely dictator has gotten his balls in a twist over sharing his toys.”

Jo sniffed. “I’m starting to think you did a little more than ‘play’ with Lisa. By the gods, Dean! I always knew you were reckless, but I also thought you had common sense enough to know when not to push it with Azazel. There are too many men falling over themselves to cut throats for him. Mother and I dread the day that someone finds your body face-down in a cistern somewhere.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know what’s scarier, you angering the most powerful man in Rome, or you pissing off Ellen.”

Dean sighed, opening the pack Jo gave him and sweeping the maps into the large pocket.

“I—,” he looked toward the courtyard and the failing light. “I have to go. I’ll send word when I reach the safe house.”

Sam clasped him along the arm, pulling him into a hug.

“You had better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated.
> 
> Come say hello. I am a lonely person.  
> ambersagen.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Julius Caesar met angels. Now, this is obviously a translation choice by early Christians translating my source, the life of Julius Caesar by Suetonius, but it was this translation for what would otherwise be known as an apparition or specter that first lead me to think up this AU. Such apparitions, usually Gods or messengers of the gods, have been documented in several ancient sources. They are rarely, if ever given names. Rather, they usually just appear and give direction or warnings to the poor mortals who are unfortunate enough to attract the gods attention
> 
> Come say hello. I am a lonely person.  
> ambersagen.tumblr.com


End file.
